


We're Always Out There

by masterroadtripper



Series: Best We Can [3]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Charlie's Refuge injuries, How Charlie and Jack met, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, polio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 13:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterroadtripper/pseuds/masterroadtripper
Summary: Jack and Charlie wake up on the rooftop and get ready to start a new day.
Relationships: Crutchie/Jack Kelly
Series: Best We Can [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555765
Kudos: 59





	We're Always Out There

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place right after "Would I Let You Down?"

Jack had woken up to watch the sunrise. He was exhausted and wanted badly to just be able to stay in bed next to Charlie all day. But the fact was, if either of them wanted to eat tonight, they’d have to get busy. He smiled as he dangled his legs off the edge of the roof, the sun beginning to splash colour over the metal and wood frames of New York.

His belly was still warm from where he had spent all night plastered to Charlie’s back, arms wrapped around the younger boy’s sturdy frame. Charlie was still asleep - which Jack was extremely grateful for. He figured that Charlie hadn’t gotten much sleep, if any, during his eleven days in the Refuge.

Jack wanted to ask Charlie about what he happened. Or, more specifically, _had Snyder laid hands on Charlie?_ It plagued his thoughts every hour of every single one of those eleven days he had spent without the younger boy at his side. The lack of knowledge about what was happening to Charlie. It terrified him. But Charlie was here now. Snyder was locked up. The nuns were going to take over the Refuge. They were both safe. They were both here together.

Was together truly safe though? This alone could get them both locked up. He knew Albert dabbled in the same sex on occasion, and while he never actively spoke of it to the other guys, Jack had ears everywhere. Obviously, he wouldn’t stand for any kind of bullying in his lodging house, regardless of why they were doing it, but he really didn’t know if he could stop all of them from ganging up on him and Charlie if they were so inclined.

“Youse up early,” Jack heard Charlie say from behind him. The sun was just over the horizon, the colours of the sky starting to even out into a dull blue, and it was really time to start their day now.

The nuns would exhaust their breakfast cart before they got down to get a mug of lukewarm coffee and a hard biscuit. If they missed the nuns, they’d have to wait until dinner - if they even made enough to pay for it. Jack could last a day without breakfast or dinner, but Charlie couldn’t. Without proper food, Charlie’s leg would act up worse than usual, often reaching up into his hip and making walking impossible. There were days that Jack couldn’t convince himself to eat, but he’d get off his rear-end if he was able to make sure Charlie spent his days in as little pain as possible.

“Watchin’ the sunrise,” Jack replied, turning around to face Charlie.

In the better lighting, he saw the bruising on Charlie’s face and neck. He felt his heart constrict at the hurts peppering his best friend. Not just on his face. In the night, the sleeves of his shirt had bunched up and Jack saw the abrasions around Charlie’s wrists, mirroring the scars of his own. He saw bruising in the shape of fists closer to his elbows and the healing hurts of being pushed to the ground and scraping skin away from muscles. Charlie rolled over and Jack watched him wince. As much as Charlie tried to hide his hurts from everyone and everything, he still felt real pain. Jack wondered if the pain was coming from his leg or his injured face and arms. Likely both.

“Okay ova there?” Jack asked, making his way across the roof towards his mattress, about to go digging for his change of clothes to start the day. He hoped that Charlie would get changed as well. His shirt was torn and the collar was bloodied - not a good selling shirt in any way. And if he didn’t have another, Jack would find him one.

“M’fine,” Charlie grunted in reply as he more-or-less pushed himself to sitting.

“Youse gonna ‘ave ta’ change youse shirt,” Jack said once he figured that Charlie wasn’t going to make that decision on his own.

“Aint got anotha,” Charlie replied, “least my pants aint too destroyed.”

“Not really true,” Jack said, looking over Charlie’s bottom half. The knees were ripped, and one of the pockets was hanging loose, barely even attached to the rest of the fabric. His clothes were pitiful. Less than pitiful. He looked worse now than when Jack had first seen him, begging on the street corner, writhing in pain from the polio coursing through his veins.

_When he had first seen Charlie, he hadn’t paid him any mind. A kid his size at that age, he wasn’t likely to survive the next few days. Jack hated thinking that way, but they had a strict “no polio” policy at the lodging and nothing he did would help the kid. But every day on his way to the harbour, he saw the boy and every day on his way home he was still there. Day after day the boy got thinner and his leg grew more crooked, but he didn’t die. _

_After three weeks, the boy was still there. That was when Jack started bringing him food once a day - which he had stolen. About a week after that, Jack brought him a coat - which he stolen - and a blanket from the lodging - technically stolen as well. A week after that Jack brought him food at every meal. He never stayed long, he knew that it took six weeks for polio to run its course and he couldn't risk catching it. _

_He’d seen the boy just over five weeks and by the end of the sixth - with the boy still alive - he’d paid for a night at the lodging for him. _

“Yah know Jack, I’d prolly sell more papes like this,” Charlie said. Jack bet he meant it as a joke, but the joking attitude didn’t really come across all the way, so it sounded more sad than anything.

“No, you won’t,” Jack replied, “dem fancy folk aint gonna go near youse lookin like that.”

“I guess,” Charlie said, “got an extra shirt for me?”

“‘Ave an extra in my pack,” Jack replied, “gonna ‘ave to go inside to get it.”

Climbing back up the ladder and onto the roof with his sack, Jack finally saw the extent of Charlie’s Refuge injuries. In the brighter sun, he saw the massive bruising all down his best friend’s side, almost entirely blue and purple now, not yet healed. There were scabbed over cuts and scrapes down his side and over his shoulder, likely from where he had been dragged to the cart by Snyder’s boys. God, Snyder better be glad he was safe behind prison bars, or else he’d get the taste of Jack’s fist. Though, the freaky old man would probably like that.

“Here ya go,” Jack said, announcing his presence as he climbed onto the roof all the way. Charlie’s back was turned mostly away from him and Jack got a second to admire the younger boy. Yeah, he was battered and bruised, but he could see the muscles rippling under his otherwise unblemished skin. And the little curled hairs at the back of his neck, Jack just wanted to run his fingers through them to see if Charlie would shiver or purr like a cat.

“Fanks Jack,” Charlie said, turning a little to accept the offered shirt.

“Can I kiss youse ‘gain?” Jack asked, a little shy. He hoped that the ground they’d covered last night hadn’t been undone somehow. Always good to ask first though.

“O’ course,” Charlie said, stalling his dressing progress to tilt his head back and accept the press of lips that Jack gave. It was short, but it was tender and Jack hoped that it said all the things he couldn’t force his mouth to say. Not yet, anyways.

“We’s gotta get goin before the guys come ‘n ask questions,” Jack said, trying to keep the sad tone away from his voice. But it was what it was. They had to make their way downstairs and start the day.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) 'the eleven days at the Refuge' comment that Jack makes is based on the real chronology of the strike (where, hypothetically, Charlie was locked up from July 20th-August 1st). Not 6 months like Jack was, but enough to scare Charlie and Jack both.
> 
> 2) 'at the end of the sixth week' is about how long for someone who has active polio to not be contagious and for the bug to work its way through a person - likely leaving them deformed. Really, Charlie is lucky that it didn't get to his lungs and just did one leg.


End file.
